Chapter Seven
Tionne
Standing out in the pouring rain, I hit the lock on the black Mercedes G-Wagen parked near the fountain in my driveway and hopped in. For a second, I just stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I looked like shit, but I felt liberated. For the first time in a long time, I was free, no longer giving a fuck about image or what people thought about me. My mother used to tell me that if a nigga wasn’t paying my bills, then fuck ’im. I used to laugh then, but now I was taking heed.
With no destination in mind, I hit the gate control in my whip and watched as the ten-foot wrought iron gates opened. Instantly, a mob of photographers began snapping pictures.
“Where are you going, Tionne?”
“Why don’t you have on any clothing?”
“Where is Dallas?”
I didn’t respond to a single question while revving the engine. Just as I prepared to pull off, my front door opened. I half expected Dallas to come chasing me down. However, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. This nigga was hurling my belongings out the front door piece by piece. At first, I tried to pay it no mind, but the more my shit came flying out of the house, the more pissed off I got.
“What are you doing?” I yelled.
“I’m sick of your games, Tionne. If you want to leave, then leave,” Dallas said before tossing a box of Louboutins at me.
“So you’re in the wrong, but you mad because I’m leaving?” I jumped from the car, completely oblivious to the paparazzi having a field day.
“Tionne, I give you everything and you still ain’t happy. So fuck it. I’m done,” he barked.
“You’re done? No, nigga, I’m done.” Barging past him, I entered through the front door and opened the coat closet.
“What are you doing?” Now Dallas was behind me.
“I can show you better than I can tell you.” Bingo. I spotted a set of golf clubs he used at a charity event, and I pulled out the 9 iron. “You want to damage my shit?” I laughed. “Okay, I got you.”
“Girl, you better not do what I think you’re about to do.” Dallas’s eyes were as big as saucers.
“You better get out of my way.” I swung the club in his direction, intentionally avoiding his head.
With Dallas on my heels, I entered the kitchen and started busting out the glass windows on each cabinet. Next, I swung the golf club down and took to severely damaging the granite countertops.
“What the fuck, Tionne?”
I took my tirade into the family room, which was attached to the kitchen. Lining the walls were several Grammys and VMAs.
“Don’t do it,” Dallas yelled just before I resumed my crusade. Things went flying in every direction. After I cleared the wall, Dallas once again tried to stop me, but he was no match for my speed. I ducked under his arm and headed into his office.
“Tionne, you better cut this shit out right now!” Dallas ran up behind me.
With the laugh of a crazy woman, I raised the club above my head, then swung it with all my might. It was with immense gratification that I watched Dallas’s first framed platinum album shatter into pieces.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Struggling to salvage his most prized possession, Dallas pushed past me.
I didn’t know why, but out of nowhere I started crying. “Dallas, why can’t you just be right? Don’t you know how much I love you? Don’t you know how much I’ve given to this relationship?” I whimpered. “I love you more than I love myself sometimes. Why can’t you just do right by me?”
“Tionne, I do love you, and I want to be right, baby, I do, but . . .” Dallas took a seat in his desk chair, then lowered his head in shame.
“Am I not good enough?” I continued to tear up. For years, the question stayed etched in my mind, but I dared not ask it for fear of the answer.
“Tionne, you are good enough. I’m just too stupid to realize it at times.” Dallas stood and came over to embrace me. “I’m a flawed man who has made my fair share of mistakes, but if you can give me one more chance, I swear on my father’s grave, I’ll try to do better.”
“Dallas, do you know how many chances you’ve been given?” I pushed away from him. “I love you but I’m leaving.”
“Please don’t leave me.” Dallas recognized that this time I was serious. I could tell he was scared to death.
“You and I both know this ain’t working, so let’s stop pretending.” I’d come to this conclusion a long time ago but finally found the strength to act.
“Baby, I’ll get my shit together. I don’t want to lose you.” Dallas was practically begging.
Normally, I would find this amusing, but today I was over it. “I’m tired of being lied to and cheated on. I know you’re tired of cheating and getting caught, so let’s make it easy on both of us,” I sighed before turning toward the door.
“Tionne, I can’t live without you, ma.”
“At one time, I thought that was true, Dallas, but you’ll survive. Trust me.” Smiling, I exited the room, then made my way to the front door, which was still wide open.
“Are you leaving for a few days or filing for a divorce?” Dallas sounded like a saddened child.
“I’m gone for good, baby.” For the second time that night, I raised my right hand and chucked him the deuces. “It’s time to do me.”
“Baby, please, think about giving us another try.”
“The straw that broke the camel’s back was the call I received the other day from the gynecologist.” I turned to face him. “You gave me chlamydia.”
“What?” Dallas looked dumbfounded.
“That’s right, nigga. You don’t even love me enough to use a rubber.” Without another word, I kept on walking.
On the way out, I spotted a red Cavalli one-piece lying on the floor and slipped it on. Dallas was still behind me. However, he remained quiet. Until now, I had never made good on my threats to leave. He was shocked but I wasn’t. I had reached my breaking point. Therefore, I was done with a capital D. A bitch felt like Angela Bassett in the movie Waiting to Exhale when she lit the car on fire.
As I walked away, my adrenaline level was rising. Yet I was as cool as a cucumber when I stepped outside my house. The paparazzi were still there snapping pictures, fetching for a story, but I didn’t care. After hopping behind the wheel of the waiting G-Wagen, I put the pedal to the metal, then sped off into my new life. “Fuck Love & Hip Hop.”